


Dragon Vomit

by Codango



Category: Original Work
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Dragons, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Mutual Pining, No Sex, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Fiction, Secret Crush, Stripping, Urban Fantasy, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 06:45:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7834360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codango/pseuds/Codango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronnie has of course noticed before that Javis is physical perfection. The woman has to be like six foot two, come on. Shoulders that can lift a baby dragon, thighs that can launch her into flight, ass that fills out a sinful uniform of leather and brass just right. Her shaved head, her lack of jewelry, mean that Javis’ lean muscles and gigantic wings enjoy all the attention. </p><p>Ronnie feels the need to dump a keg of ice water over her own head. Because, fuck, try as she might, there is just no way she’s keeping her eyes off Javis’ velvety skin, toned and beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragon Vomit

**Author's Note:**

> _**SIRENS**_  
>  ORIGINAL WORK, PARTY PEOPLE. I'm trying to get unstuck on my original novel, so I wrote a prelude to porn for my two main characters that will never see the light of publication. 
> 
> Read if you like, but I swear my feelings won't be hurt if this doesn't get many hits, etc. I get that original work isn't the draw on AO3 ;) This is mostly to unstick myself and get excited about writing my own stuff again.

Javis’ room is utilitarian. Spare. As one would expect from a military barracks. It makes her appear larger than life, her black feathered wings spread. At ease in her private quarters.

Ronnie tries not to stare as Javis unbuckles her vest. It falls apart easily, no trouble for her wings or her beautifully sculpted shoulders. She turns to hang it on a simple peg, and Ronnie chokes.

Javis shoots her a surprised look, for all the world undisturbed by her own toplessness. “All right, Jimenez?”

Ronnie spins on a heel, feigns interest in cracked drywall. “Fine. Dandy.” _Horny. As fuck._ “Take your time.” _Hurry, for the love._

“Oh?” Soft steps approach from behind. “You don’t look fine.” A firm hand at Ronnie’s shoulder spins her around. Firm nipples are just below eye level, and Ronnie tries so damn hard to keep her gaze up, _up._ Which does shit-all good, actually, because Javis’ face has those cheekbones and those eyes and that mouth. “You look feverish,” Javis observes. “Are you ill?”

“Just a little, um, hot.” Ronnie shrugs innocently. _Hot? That’s what you went with?_

“No small wonder.” Javis tugs at Ronnie’s jacket. “It’s always blistering in here, take this off.”

Ronnie finds herself slipping out of her brand-new, desperately prized leather jacket without a second thought. She lets it fall to the floor, eyes glued to Javis’.

“Um.” Javis raises an eyebrow at the garment, offensive clutter in the austere room. “Sure.” She bends to pick it up. A wing brushes against Ronnie’s hip, and she stumbles backward, slamming herself into the wall.

“Jimenez, what the hell?” Javis puts her hands on her hips, the jacket dangling next to a thigh that looks like it could crush souls. “Do you have heat stroke? Do I need to take you to Medic?”

Ronnie’s hip feels like it’s on fire. She’s seen the power in those wings. They shouldn’t feel... well. Soft? Sensuous? Delicate? She puts a hand to her head and stares at the floor. “Goddamn, will you hurry up?” _I need out of here._

Javis frowns. “Right. Two more seconds.” The tight pants of her uniform should really take much longer to come off than they do. “Really not my fault Hisashi got food poisoning, but dragon vomit does a number on leather if it’s not treated right away...” She sounds mildly annoyed.

Ronnie has of course noticed before that Javis is physical perfection. The woman has to be like six foot two, come on. Shoulders that can lift a baby dragon, thighs that can launch her into flight, ass that fills out a sinful uniform of leather and brass just right. Her shaved head, her lack of jewelry, mean that Javis’ lean muscles and gigantic wings enjoy all the attention.

Ronnie feels the need to dump a keg of ice water over her own head. Because, _fuck_ , try as she might, there is just no way she’s keeping her eyes off Javis’ velvety skin, toned and beautiful.

“Jimenez?”

“Hm?” Ronnie snaps her eyes up. Up from an ass she should never be allowed to see naked and into eyes that... um. _Woops._

Javis is watching her, eyes narrow. “Are you...” she asks slowly, “... looking at me?”

A choked laugh claws its way up Ronnie’s throat, and she stares at her own feet. “Me? No? I’m just looking at the floor, because there is literally nothing else of interest in this room. Nope. You do you.” _Then do me. Oh my god, you’re hopeless, fuck!_

Floorboards creak, and then there are two feet, long and dark and elegant, inches away from her own boots. Ronnie swallows hard but doesn’t look up.

A cool finger slides under chin, urges her face up. It’s unfair how captivating Javis is, really. Ronnie loses herself in deep brown eyes, helpless. “I’m... I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“You should be.” Javis is serious, and Ronnie’s heart sinks with shame. “I’ve never had to actually strip for someone before to get them to show interest.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably use this as a dumping ground for unpublishable drabbles for my OCs. I'm realizing that part of what makes writing fanfic on AO3 so much fun is the sheer act of posting something new. Maybe that'll help me move on with my original stuff too? WHO THE FUCK KNOWS.
> 
> [@codango](http://codango.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr
> 
> [Marcella Christie](http://marcellachristie.com/) for my alter ego


End file.
